


Falter

by beemotionpicture



Series: bee's Thor/Bruce Week 2018 [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Canon, From Sex to Love, Implied Torture, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Not Happy, Not the Greatest Love Story Ever Told, Repression, Team as Family, Teammates to Lovers to Not Friends to Lovers Again, The Avengers Love Bruce, Thor Would Also Like a Hug But He Won't Tell You That
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-06-21 12:38:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15557862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beemotionpicture/pseuds/beemotionpicture
Summary: Bruce takes and takes until Thor has nothing left to give.





	1. Flinch

**Author's Note:**

> Formerly titled Flinch. First chapter originally for Thor/Bruce Week 2018's Day 4: Touch.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor made to touch him, and Bruce recoiled.

Banner staggered from the Quinjet, but no one made a move to steady him.

 

His usual threadbare sweater had done nothing to stop his shivering, so Thor had shrugged off his cape for Banner to warm himself. He refused.

 

The team was at a loss at what to do. Tony had been furious, storming the military base as if it wasn’t a complete act of treason. Steve did nothing to stop him. Clint and Natasha stayed behind, the former serving as their eyes from the sky while the latter readied any and all medical materials they might need to treat Banner.

 

The equipment wasn’t enough to treat the state they found him in.

 

As for Thor, he came from Asgard as soon as he heard, destroying half the base as the Bifrost made its mark in the rubble where a building used to stand. Tony would have made a jab about dramatic entrances, but Banner was still—

 

Banner was fine, when they found him.

 

No wounds, no signs of bruising, bleeding, or needle marks. All he had on was some scrubs made of paper-thin material, and no shoes.

 

“Hey guys,” he had said, wringing his hands and shuffling a little in the rubble. He made a show of looking around at the devastation. “All this for little ol’ me?”

 

It was wrong. Wrong, wrong, _wrong._

 

The entirety of the Quinjet was quiet throughout the trip.

 

When Banner had finally retired to his quarters with a small smile and a “Thanks again, guys,” as if he hadn’t been in Ross’s hands for _twenty fucking days_ , Tony lost it, punching a wall and no doubt injuring his hand.

 

Steve looked lost, and for once looked nothing like a man with a plan. Clint gazed at Banner’s retreating back with steely eyes and disappeared into the vents short after. Natasha sat outside on the platform that housed the Quinjet, never having come inside.

 

It was storming, now.

 

Big fat droplets assaulted the concrete below them, accompanied by streaks of lighting across the sky and the rumbling sounds of thunder in the distance.

 

Thor could look at his despondent comrades no longer.

 

He took long, heavy strides to Banner’s room, wanting to _fix_ this. To undo the great injustice that had been done to his friend.

 

He didn’t bother knocking, as surely Banner would have heard him coming from far away. When Thor entered the room, he found Banner seated on his bed, facing the window with his back to the door. He didn’t even startle.

 

All the anger left Thor in a single breath, and suddenly he wondered what he had planned on saying, exactly.

 

Moving toward the bed, Thor stopped at Banner’s left. Banner looked transfixed by the rain, his glossy eyes never looking away from the storm outside.

 

“Thor?” Banner said all of a sudden.  

 

Slightly startled, Thor found he could not answer.

 

Thor stared, transfixed as Banner reached for his hand slowly, as if afraid. He let himself be pulled down onto the bed, all the while looking Banner in the eye.

 

As they faced each other, Banner broke eye contact and began fiddling with Thor’s hand. “Is this alright?”

 

“Banner, what…?”

 

Banner looked pained, the first expression he had made since his rescue. “Not—Banner. Bruce, please.”

 

“...Alright. Bruce, what is the matter? Why are you acting this way?”

 

But Bruce shook his head, and closed his eyes. He licked his lips, and Thor was drawn to the sight.

 

He and Banner—no, Bruce, were not close. Thor still very much felt like an outsider to their party, still. But he cared very much for all his shield brethren, and it filled him with grief to see Bruce this way.

 

Bruce opened his eyes, and Thor saw a newfound resolve in them.

 

He leaned in and pressed his lips against Thor’s.

 

It was a chaste kiss, but it was loaded with emotion. Thor could sense the mixture of desire and longing and sheer loneliness in the kiss. There was more, as well, but he could not for the life of him interpret those feelings.

 

Then, Thor made to cup his cheek, and Bruce abruptly pulled away.

 

Thor’s eyes flew open but Bruce’s remained resolutely closed.

 

“Don’t—please don’t...do that.” Bruce said, sounding so lost.

 

And then Bruce was on him, tugging at his armor, making choked noises when there was no give. His eyes were still squeezed shut.

 

Thor could do nothing but watch his friend self-destruct.

 

Bruce buried his head in Thor’s chest and said. “ _Please._ Thor, please, I need this—I need you—”

 

Bruce was babbling—nonsense phrases but Thor understood what he meant. Slowly, he pried Bruce’s hands from his chest plate, and when he clutched them, they were clammy in his own.

 

“Are you sure, Bruce?”

 

Bruce nodded jerkily, staring at his own lap and refusing to look Thor in the eye.

 

“Bruce. I cannot, I will not, if you are not in your right mind.”

 

“I consent, Thor. They didn’t break me, I swear they didn’t—I just _need—”_ Bruce made a sound that was half a sob and half a keen. “I need you. Please.”

 

Thor obliged.

 

Thor took him slowly, despite Bruce scrabbling at his shoulders, despite Bruce’s feverishly passionate kisses.

 

Thor knew that he was naught but a warm body to provide Bruce release, but he did not care. Thor was a gracious lover, and he was not unfamiliar with taking another’s bed for comfort.

 

When they came together, it was with Thor’s bright eyes gazing at Bruce’s, which remained resolutely shut.

 

All the while, Thor ignored the tears that made their way down Bruce’s face.


	2. Tremble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor woke up the next day, alone. 
> 
> This happened again. And again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to make this into a multi-chaptered fic! ;3

The bed was cold when he woke up.

 

This did not surprise him, after what happened last night. He had been expecting something like this, after all. Thor slipped on his armor and left the room, barely making any noise. It seemed respectful to keep the silence.

 

Bruce didn’t look up from his crossword puzzle as he sat at the kitchen island, tongue sticking out and brows furrowed in concentration.

 

No, _that_ was what bothered Thor.

 

It seemed to be getting to the others as well. Tony was a tight ball of energy, practically vibrating with repressed anger. Steve was cooking breakfast, noticeably tense. Clint was munching on some cereal, silent and straight faced. Natasha was eating an apple—Thor knew she hated them.

 

Unsurprisingly, Tony broke first. He slammed down his mug, piping hot coffee sloshing over the sides and onto his hand. He didn’t even blink. Then he was walking out of the common area, looking like he wanted to murder someone, probably Ross. Maybe even Bruce.

 

Thor figured he wouldn’t emerge from his lab for a while.

 

Bruce didn’t blink, and neither did Natasha nor Clint, but Steve has visibly stiffened. As for Thor…well, he knew not to say anything.

 

And yet, he could tell—Natasha had taken one look at him and knew. He didn’t see disapproval in her gaze, although he could barely read her at all.

 

Clint munched away, and Steve has gone still.

 

“Friend Steve. The bacon is more than done, I should think,” Thor said lightly.

 

Steve seemed to come back to himself and cursed under his breath. He used the spatula that he had been holding limply in his hand to scrape the burnt remains of it from the pan.

 

And Clint munched away.

 

“Sorry,” Steve mumbled, and Thor couldn’t tell to whom he was speaking until Bruce answered.

 

“It’s no problem,” he reassured Steve, setting down his pencil to distribute the stack of plates around the counter. “I like my bacon crispy.”

 

Lie. Bruce would eat anything placed in front of him, Thor had learned. He doubted Bruce had any preference for food.

 

“None for me, Doc.” Natasha raised her apple, refusing the plate.

 

“Clint?”

 

Clint shook his head, mouth full of cornflakes.

 

“Thor?” Bruce tilted his head, looking back at where he was standing. It was in that moment that Thor realized he had stopped at the entrance of the room.

 

He blinked, nodding and walking towards the counter. He sat down and briefly wondered if the others noticed his out of place attire and the dust from the battle still in his hair. If they did, they didn’t mention anything.

 

Steve went to spoon some bacon onto the three of their plates, and aside from Tony he had the most expressive face. There was a dip between his eyebrows, and his eyes flitted upwards to and from each of their faces.

 

Thor inclined his head in thanks and dug in. _Cronch_.

 

Clint slorped the rest of his milk, drinking straight from the bowl. Afterwards, he yawned, barely managing to cover his mouth in time.

 

He broke the awkward tension in the room by saying, “So, Doc. You’re gonna be seeing a shrink, I guess? I can rec a few left over from SHIELD, had to see a bunch after Loki.” He looked upwards, lost in thought. “Actually, pretty much anyone ‘cept for Jameson is okay. He’s a jerkwad. Hate that guy…” he grumbled.

 

Steve made a strangled noise.

 

Bruce hummed. He bit off a piece of bacon and chewed thoughtfully. “Thanks, Clint,” he said pleasantly. “I’ll think about it.”

 

Thor knew he wouldn’t.

 

Thor had seen a therapist, once. Steve recommended him. He hadn’t seen the point at the time, but then again he had been dealing with his grief for Loki and his mother in a particularly unhealthy way—by pretending it hadn’t bothered him.

 

Which was why he could understand Bruce, he supposed. Repress all the feelings. Just act normally! Everything would go back to the way it was.

 

Ha ha.

 

The funny— _funny?_ —part was that he didn’t even know what Ross had done to Bruce. He had no wounds, didn’t seem particularly weak; Bruce looked the same as the day they had come back to the Quinjet to find him gone.

 

Bruce certainly acted like things were the same. Maybe Thor was right; maybe all you needed to do was ignore things and they would go away.

 

And what of last night, he wondered.

 

He didn’t linger on the it, and the thought left him as they fell into pleasant conversation about one thing or another. Something pleasant, inane, harmless. Steve grasped at it like a drowning man, because everyone else was pretending so perhaps he should, too. Thor didn’t mind. It was preferable to the stifling air that had pervaded the room earlier.

 

So they went about their day, or at least Thor did, and things went back to normal at Avengers Tower.

 

Thor thought that was the end of it—but he couldn’t say he was very surprised to see Bruce show up in the doorway of his bedroom.

 

“Hi.” Bruce waved. “Are you busy?” he asked, looking like he fully intended to leave at the slightest hint that he was bothering Thor.

 

“Not at all.” Thor stepped aside and gestured for Bruce to come in. Thor sat on his bed, forearms resting on his knees.

 

“Would you like to sleep with me again?” Bruce asked plainly, the way he’d ask for a change of clothes after a battle, or perhaps more accurately like the way he’d asked Tony to lower the volume of his music so many times—like he would appreciate it, but without really expecting to be entertained.

 

Normally Thor would have laughed heartily at the boldness, but it didn’t seem altogether appropriate right now.

 

“Of course,” Thor said instead, and beckoned him closer.

 

To his credit, Bruce didn’t pause when Thor ducked away from a kiss, shaking his head no. Bruce just brushed his lips against the stubble on his jaw in question, and Thor made a low sound of approval.

 

Thor reclined on the bed and Bruce let himself be tugged down with him. They ended up in a tangle of sheets, Thor’s damp hair fanned out on the pillow and curling at the ends.

 

Eventually Bruce had to pull away from Thor to shrug off his clothes, and Thor took the time to prepare. Bruce’s hands stilled on the buttons of his shirt and he stared, transfixed as Thor worked himself open.

 

It wasn’t a show, exactly—but Thor had always been comfortable with his body so there was no hesitation in his movements, no shame as he laid himself bare for Bruce to see.

 

Bruce forced himself to move again, and when he was done Thor pressed him down onto his back, straddling him. Then Thor reached behind himself, and—

 

“Oh,” Bruce murmured, eyes sliding shut and fingers digging into Thor’s hips. He was less desperate tonight, more relaxed, so Thor didn’t have to worry about going slow as to not hurt him.

 

Bruce had been lost in his thoughts, but now he needed something else to lose himself in. Thor gave it to him readily, and he wondered if Bruce was able to find anything in it—comfort, maybe. Contentment? Most certainly not.

 

Thor didn’t bother dressing afterwards, and when Bruce padded towards the door he tried not to make any sound.

 

That was considerate of him, Thor thought. Very polite. Very Bruce.

 

Things were not right at all, but at least Bruce’s thoughtfulness hadn’t left him. At least they had let Bruce keep that.

**Author's Note:**

> I made a [Thor-centric discord](https://discord.gg/4dahRt8), if anyone is interested in joining. This is an INCEST-FREE server.
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](https://beemotionpicture.tumblr.com).


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